The travel game has well and truly changed and while we’re all madly rushing back to board planes, trains and automobiles (and spaceships), it will never be the same.
That’s not necessarily a bad thing, because in the blistering wake of the great travel break some tourism businesses have emerged as avant-garde; the sort of forward thinkers that we’re all desperately seeking when planning our future adventures.
You want to stay in a space hotel? Surprisingly that’s an option that’s not too far away. You want a personal travel concierge without the price tag? Let us introduce you to the virtual travel agent of the future. How about learning to kitesurf in the crystal lagoon surrounding Amanpulo island in the Philippines? Strap yourself in, this vacation is all about making you a better person.
Here are nine ways you can travel like a trailblazer:
We have high expectations when it comes to booking hotels these days, and the trend is definitely towards accommodation that better connects us with nature.
Plants are the new pets; they’re everywhere in our homes, so it makes sense that they come on vacation with us, too. ‘Biophilic design’ is a term used to define our connection to nature in a building or hotel, where nature can play a restorative role when we wake up on a holiday. We particularly love the Arctic Bath in Harads, Sweden. A giant nest-like structure that looks like it’s been constructed by a beaver on a river.
Your wallet has the incredible ability to shift commerce and social change when you’re on vacation.
Tour companies, airlines and hoteliers are all reacting to market forces where consumers are not just requesting, but demanding sustainable holidays and tours which give back to local communities. Adventure World Travel recently launched their Make Travel Matter journeys, which are specific itineraries that meet a set of criteria measured against the United Nations Global Sustainability Goals.
ALTER ECO www.adventureworld.com.au/maketravelmatter/
Fitness holidays and wellness retreats in Asia aren’t new, but for the solo travel trailblazer, it will be a big part of any future travel plans to learn a new skill while overseas and come back better than when they left.
Aman Journeys have a range of Extreme Sports Retreats to choose from, from the white-sandy beaches of the Philippines to the snow-capped mountains of Italy. Learn to Kite Surf in Amanpulo or take a driving course through the Italian Alps in a sports car alongside an experienced race car driver.
Ground control to Major Tom: Space travel is not far away.
As the billionaires battled it out in their own personal space-race this year, California-based Orbital Assembly announced it would welcome its first guests to its outer-earth hotel in 2027. That’s literally only six years away! Just like all the sci-fi movies, the super futuristic rotating space station (complete with gymnasium, sauna and bar) will produce artificial gravity by increasing and decreasing its rate of rotation.
The day of the travel agent is well and truly numbered, but in their place virtual travel concierges have emerged as the go-to tool, for travellers seeking immersive and experiential travel experiences without having to lift a finger.
By using clever technology platforms like Jubel, you can get a hyper-personalised vacation based on your lifestyle choices with the assurance someone else is managing all the bookings and logistics.
Once upon a time, booking a mystery flight was a wild and exhilarating concept! But sometimes the best adventures are completely unknown from the minute you step off a plane.
Take for example the team at Rustic Pathways who book mystery trips just for students. When you book, all you recieve is a Patagonia duffel bag in the mail, filled with subtle hints about your upcoming adventure and a packing list that arrives a month before you leave. Then there’s the crew at Pack Up + Go who also plan domestic trips for couples around the United States. All you have to do is fill out a quick survey and tell them your budget. The rest is completely out of your hands.
If the last year taught us anything, it’s that getting away and having your own time can actually be pretty good.
Getting away from absolutely EVERYTHING is what Do Castaway specialise in, offering authentic marooned-on-an-island experiences: on a secluded island it’s you, and only you. Forage for your own food, seek refuge in a basic shelter, hear the waves crash and live out your own Robinson Crusoe adventure.
REMOTE CONTROL www.docastaway.com/tropical-island-holidays
Travel should be rich, immersive and deeply educational. Arcadia Expeditions is a new-age travel company using expedition leadership teams of two on every small-group tour.
From Georgia to Sudan, Arcadia uses an expert (academic, photographer, poet, artist) on the trip’s specific theme to narrate the story of the tour alongside a local guide that also shares their knowledge and insights with guests.
Rocio, the woman behind Mexico City food tour Eat Like a Local, absolutely hates tours. Which is why her tours work so well.
Inspired by a night out on the town with homeless men in Istanbul, the Mexico City native created a food tour that forgoes most traditional tour aspects: Employing only women, there’s even a tour run by kids. Noting that anyone can Google the best restaurants in a city, Rocio takes guests into the streets: the back alleyways, the hoods – the real Mexico City, in other words.
Some places in the world are blessed with lovely scenery. Or adventure sports. Or a nice restaraunt or two. Or a quietness that can't be found in the city. And then some places, like County Mayo, are blessed with all of that, and a bit more.
“We have the best fishing, the best golf, best water sports, the finest food, and absolutely no crowds,” says Alan, the owner of the grand Mount Falcon Estate, on the banks of the River Moy in Mayo.
The Wild Atlantic Way – which stretches from the tip of Malin Head in County Donegal to the quaint seaside town of Kinsale in County Cork – is extremely easy to access when driving from Dublin.
While the infinite beauty of the west of Ireland could take a lifetime to explore, my expedition has brought me and my travelling party to the southern seaside counties of Sligo and Mayo, where we’re due to get the best sampling of what this ancient corner of Europe has on offer.
I’m starting off in Strandhill; a tiny town so darling and delightful it makes you want to stay here and start a life. With a picturesque main street that empties out onto the vast sandy coast, the town is lined with artisanal restaurants, classic pubs, seaside spas, and even friendly surf shops.
“There isn’t just surfing in Ireland, there’s some of the best surfing in the world here,” says Tom Hickey, my surf instructor from Perfect Day Surfing School. “Strandhill, Mullaghmore Head, and Easky are really world class [surfing] spots, where swells can reach up to 3 metres,” he tells me.
Luckily as he says this I’m already wearing the full steamer wetsuit he has rented me so he didn’t see me shame myself.
After surviving what can only be termed a torrid surf lesson on the angry Sligo coast, I quickly duck into Voya Spa to continue my sea therapy with something a little calmer – their signature seaweed bath. It’s a centuries-old coastal Irish tradition brought to life in a beautiful modern setting.
“You’re going to really like this. It’s much easier than surfing,” the receptionist at Voya says to me with a smile.
She was right, the tension and stress disappeared from my body almost immediately. And after 30 more minutes of soaking I’m brand new. The warm bath water extracts the natural, silky, gelatinous qualities from the freshly harvested seaweed from just out the front door.
What’s more, Voya Spa sells all sorts of seaweed-based health and beauty products, including a seaweed kit so you can have the same experience at home.
THE WARM BATH WATER EXTRACTS THE NATURAL, SILKY, GELATINOUS QUALITIES FROM THE FRESHLY HARVESTED SEAWEED FROM JUST OUT THE FRONT DOOR AND IT REALLY IS ONE OF THE MOST LUXURIOUS EXPERIENCES YOU CAN HAVE.
If you aren’t yet sold on Strandhill, the little gelato shop called Mammy Johnstons might be the real clincher. Here they lay claim to the prestigious title of the world’s best gelato.
“It’s not us saying it either,” the owner, who studied his craft in Bologna, tells me. “We’ve won best gelato in Italy for three years running.”
Saying farewell to Strandhill is not easy, but with a coastline that stretches more than 2,500 kilometres there’s still so much more to see. Is there anything more idyllic than traversing this landscape on horseback? If so, I’d love to hear it.
“What level of rider are you?” asks Ursula from Island View Riding Stables in Monygold.
“Well, I ride the train, almost daily,” I joke to hide my trepidation. Soon after, I’m handed a furry four-legged tank named Delores. Ursula and her team are professionals, as are their animals, comfortable with city slickers like myself. Under their guidance, I find it easy bouncing down the beautiful Sligo coastline with the majestic Benbulbin Mountain flanking me in the distance.
CLICK TO SEE US TASTE THE BEST GELATO IN THE WORLD:
And as our horses and feet wade through the blue-green tidal water, I crane my neck to marvel at Slieve League just up ahead, the tallest sea cliffs in all of Europe are hard to miss. The beauty here on this beach is so raw, so natural, and frankly gigantic, that it leaves you feeling incredibly small and insignificant – even on the back of a trusty steed like Delores.
Saying goodbye to my all-terrain, four-legged transportation, our group travels to a local farm to rendezvous with another four-legged companion.
“You’re really going to like this. The dog you’re about to meet can do amazing things,” says Martin Feeny from Atlantic Sheepdogs.
Oh. Wonderful. A dog show. How … riveting? I have to stop myself from cringing.
Martin is a tall and bespectacled man we meet at the entrance to a modest sheep farm.
“We have some tea and biscuits here for you, we’re sure you’re hungry from your journey. Have a bite and then I’ll bring out Bob.” “Sorry, who is Bob?” I ask Martin.
“Oh Bob is one of our dogs. We’ll get him moving around for ya,” Martin replies with a confident smile.
I think to myself that these biscuits better be really good. Real good.
A minute later, most of the biscuit falls out of my fully agape mouth.
“Bob. Comebye. Comebye. Stop. Combye. Stop. Away’is. Stop. Combye. Stop.” Martin says calmly to Bob the Sheepdog, his beautiful black and white best friend, controlling him with ease as if the dog was mechanical and voice controlled.
“I can’t even get Siri to tell me what the weather is. How are you doing this?” I ask Martin while wiping the biscuit crumbs from my mouth.
“Well,” says Martin, “Bob wants to do this. Sheepdogs love chasing sheep. They would be doing it if I weren’t here. So if you get them young enough, you can teach them pretty easily.”
Saying goodbye to Bob, biscuits and black sheep, we move onto Mount Falcon Estate in Ballina. Once inside, the opulence of the 19th century manor is breathtaking, with rich mahogany timber balustrades and stone floors, fresh flowers and a warmth greeting you in every room like a hug.
“Well, well! Looks like our travellers have arrived!” says Alan the owner with a thunderous bellow. He greets us like ambassadors or dignitaries having just arrived from a long sea journey. “I think food and drink is in order! This way!”
Alan leads us to the dining hall, which used to be the old granary. It’s here he tells us the rich history of the Estate where we’re spending the night, he bends our ears over a delicious meal of local roasted meats, vegetables grown on the grounds, and some very fine single malt whisky.
“My father worked for the United Nations, so my siblings and I grew up all over the Middle East. Even so, I have always been Irish, so when I came home I wanted to do something that really spoke to me. I found this place. I bought it. Spent years restoring it to its original beauty, and now, I get to share it with everyone. Couldn’t be happier.”
CLICK TO TOUR AROUND MOUNT FALCON ESTATE:
The next day – well rested – we’re bounding into the town of Belmullet which is dotted with lively pubs, small shops, and a single roundabout in the town’s center. What you may not expect from Belmullet, however, is the affinity they have here for water sports.
“What would you like to do today?!” says our guide, Paddy. “You want to kayak or maybe do a bit of snorkeling? Let’s do both!”
Paddy is more excited than all our travelling group put together, mainly because he’s accustomed to putting on a full winter wetsuit everyday. “Trust me, you’ll want the booties,” he says.
Carrying our kayaks down to the cove, we launch into the icy northern Atlantic. To my surprise, my first reaction was not to scream like a small child. Instead, I was able to quite comfortably paddle out around the cape and down the coast, marvelling at the towering rock formation that plunged into the sea.
“You know they just found three, three, Spanish galleons. Right here on this coast. All from the 16th century. It’s unbelievable the secrets the sea has here,” says Paddy.
Towelling off while simultaneously warming with a dram of whisky in my hand, we’re again back on the road toward my final stop; Clare Island.
“Just to give you an idea, in 1841 there were over 1500 people living on this tiny island,” mentions the captain of the ferry over the radio, “Today there are just 152. Not one soul more nor less. That Sir, is what a famine can do to a place.”
What makes this island really magical isn’t so much it’s complex past, but the remaining inhabitants who have stayed behind. Take the kind eyed, sublimely centred Christophe who helps run Macalla Farm, which is a unique yoga retreat nestled in a lush valley overlooking the sea.
Travellers come to the farm from all over Ireland to work the land, meditate and further their yoga skills with the green mountains and deep blue Atlantic as their classroom. On Clare Island, you might also wander to the Ballytoughey Loom where master weaver Beth Moran still uses traditional methods to create some of the most beautiful and sublimely soft local clothing.
But most impressive was our visit to the Lighthouse Hotel overlooking the northern rocky tip of the island. Perched out on the black seawall over the Atlantic, this specialty hotel features six unique rooms in what was once a functioning Lighthouse from as early as 1806. Each room is beautifully appointed, modern, and one even has a private sauna.
As we leave the coast, the green hills and sodden bogs behind us – heading back to bustling Dublin – I keep thinking of something Alan from Mount Franklin Estate said to me before we left.
“The Irish people will make tourism a success, you won’t find any people in the world who are warmer, more welcoming, or prouder of their land. That is for sure.”
The wild west coast of Ireland as a destination is wonderful, full of nature, rich history, and outdoor experiences, but it really is the people that take it from extraordinary to spectacular.
“This is a very old land, they have found neolithic settlements here that date back to 3,000 b.c, some of the oldest in all of Europe … so I guess you could say that 5,000 years ago we invented the concept of neighbours.”
It’s no wonder they are so good with people; they’ve been practicing being neighbourly for millennia.
Nature seems to save its absolute best for Utah, where rock, mountain, lakes and valleys coexist in perfect harmony in America's west.
Within hours of flying in, our group is already travelling into the deep, ancient mountains of Zion National Park, near St George in the southwest of the state. This is a place steeped in natural wonders, adventure experiences and it’s one of the very few states in America ripe for those looking to experience the outdoors in its rawest form.
We arrive at the famous Angel’s Leading Ledgewalk via ferrata in Kolob Canyon, and very quickly I understand that Utah is not the place for your average outdoorsman. For the uninitiated, via ferrata means ‘iron path’ in Italian and is a type of climbing apparatus whereby metal rungs are drilled into vertical cliff faces thousands of metres in the air. Whilst the climber is attached to a steel cable, they walk across the cliff face with nothing but empty space and a cavern below them.
This particular via ferrata is advertised as something one can do from years 8 to 80, but obviously your comfort with heights may limit that severely. While you can now do via ferratas round the United States, here in Utah it affords you two spectacular advantages. The first is that the landscape here is nothing less than jaw dropping, as you spiderman through the seemingly painted chasms like you’re in a Kate Starling painting.
The second is that you’re guided by the man who actually created this particular course. Ian Crowe’s background in engineering affords you not just the benefit to ask a bunch of probing questions, but the added security knowing that if you go down, he’s going with you.
The next morning before the sun rises, we’re at Zion Outfitters sliding on thick neoprene socks and waterproof orange hiking boots. Before long we’re marching down a river flowing freely in an extraordinary cavern with walls about 150 metres high. The idea of walking in water for five hours sounds like a particular type of machiavelian torture chamber, but in reality it is one of the most amazing earth grounding experiences you can have in the natural world.
The walls are striated in reds, golds, blacks and whites, while trees sometimes defy gravity from cracks in the surface, and the rocky outcropping afford amazing light and shadow photo opportunities.
The water in late summer for a tall person can come up to your waist, higher in spring, and even higher the further you walk upstream, but the wetness of this experience is a welcome cooldown from the Utah heat.
The following day, no longer waterlogged but definitely feeling the memory of the trail’s watery beauty in my quads, we find ourselves in the darling hamlet of Cedar City. It’s a quirky model all-American town with an actual replica Globe Theater. As in, famous playwright, Shakespeare’s Globe Theater, which our host Becki Lewis tells us is a major draw for the iconic town.
“We do about a dozen productions a year and people come from all over, even New York where the acting troupe is from. We have seminars before and after shows for anyone that wants to learn more about the plays. It’s a great way to get introduced to Shakespeare, even though we do other more contemporary plays here as well.”
But art thou looking for outdoor adventure in Utah? Back to the epic. Brian Head Resort is an epic ski destination in Southern Utah. This unplugged destination offers some amazing powder snow and epic backcountry skiing opportunities throughout the winter, and all without the crowds that typify the resorts up north.
In the summer, the fun doesn’t stop, as mountain bikers flock to the hill to fly down at breakneck speed. At Capitol Reef we stop at a pick-it-yourself cum honour system apple orchard, grabbing a few ripe Red Delicious off perfect trees which could be cartoons. I throw some cash in a little basket hanging on a tree like something out of the 1920s.
The next day is a bucket list moment for myself – a filmmaker in another life – when we visit Sundance, the mountain resort made famous by the film and arts community that resided and worked there. We visit exquisite restaurants and famous Owl Bar, frequented by the likes of Butch Cassidy and Robert Redford.
While most of our travelling group take to the mountain to hike or bike, I opt to instead visit the local art studio, to learn from the myriad artisans how to spin plates, make jewelry or in my case, perfect the art of crafting beautiful, artisan candles. I love bringing a bit of hand made magic home from magical places.
We stay in ‘Switzerland’…or as close to Switzerland as possible while still being in the southwest of the United States. Zermatt Utah Resort is an eerie carbon copy of it’s Swiss namesake. Complete with chateaux style hotels and mountain cuisine, Utah’s Zermatt Resort is something to behold; a grand hotel with spa and ski service, and quite simply the best apple strudel you can find in the New World. It’s kitch and crazy and I loved every minute of it.
At Soldier Hollow in Midway, a town which hosted the Biathlon event for the 2002 Winter Olympic Games, we strap on some roller blades and roll around shooting precision .22 caliber rifles at targets, all while being guided by a Olympic Biathlete Zach Hall. I never gave the Biathlon much thought when watching on TV, but after channelling a little of my inner-James Bond, it is my new favorite event.
IT IS TRULY A UNIQUE ADVENTURER’S PLAYGROUND, READY TO BE DISCOVERED. JUST BE SURE TO PACK AN EMERGENCY STASH OF BOOZE AND WATERPROOF SHOES.
On our final night we land in Salt Lake City; a brackish mix of staunch belief and wild outdoorism. It’s surrounded by geological brilliance, and cultural importance, and an interesting history beginning with its Mormon founders.
This is a unique American city where the food and bar scene is cosmopolitan and prolific, but with a sprinkling of country hospitality. During the day, we explore Utah’s famous Natural History Museum which resides right along the great bath tub ring of the Great Salt Lake, with a petrified ocean that you can see from space and a fossil record that would amaze even the most advanced of paleontologists.
In the evening I dive deep into the bowels of the city and explore Carson Kitchen, a modern American eatery where every plate is a welcome adventure. Then at Fisher Brewing Company, I finished a beer flight featuring every ale on the menu before seeking out a nightcap at an alluring establishment called BAR-X, which made me feel like I was back in a trendy part of East Village, New York rather than a Mormon-stronghold.
Even the arduous stumble home to the Peery Hotel was a delight in itself, this old Grande Dame of lodging made me feel honoring it’s historic roots while prioritising modern comfort.
In the morning I leave the mountains for my metropolis home, and I marvel out the window at the immense span of land beneath me. This is some of the oldest earth on Earth, a wilderness that many visit, but fail to even scratch the surface.
Utah is not glamorous from the outside. It’s probably not yet fully set up for hordes of tourists, but therein lies the beauty of this natural amphitheatre.
It is truly a unique adventurer’s playground, ready to be discovered. Just be sure to pack an emergency stash of booze and waterproof shoes.
The sky is darkly bruised, the breeze stiff. Without a guide, we forge along a faint track on the roof of Victoria in Australia’s southern alpine region, completely encased by mountains. The two-way radio strapped to my pack crackles briefly and, aside from the odd marker pole reassuring us we’re on track, there’s no sign of civilisation. I think to myself, damn, we’re so hardcore.
Ah, who am I kidding? Our group of five were let loose in the High Country; our mission, to walk the Falls to Hotham Alpine Crossing, a 37 kilometre route bridging two major ski resorts. Though we’re tackling it on our own two feet, someone else is lugging the gear and food; it’s the perfect balance of luxury and challenge. I mean if I don’t find my way to camp tonight there’ll be no Moroccan lamb and Tempranillo to wash it down, and if there’s no Moroccan lamb or Tempranillo…well, I don’t want to think about it.
Jean-Francois Rupp of Alpine Nature Experience is our hero for this adventure, taking care of all the responsible-adult stuff and leaving us to wander the wilderness carefree. Alpine environments require care and, having grown up in the French Alps, they’re second nature to him.
Mountains are like a latino lover: drop dead gorgeous but also, at times, tempestuous and wildly unpredictable. Only a day earlier, thick fog and 70 millimetres of rain hammered the area we’re walking in.
“A lot of people love walking but find it daunting to plan a trip like this,” he says. “There’s gear, logistics, route-finding and assessing the weather. We take care of all that.”
A morning briefing gave us – theoretically – all the tools we’d need: a topographic map, trail notes, mapping app, plus a lesson in handheld radios (for when mobiles are out of range). But the biggest draw for me is that there’s no big backpack to weigh me down on the hills ahead. Okay, that and the promise of Tempranillo.
With the curtain of cloud now hoisted well above the horizon, the vastness of earth and sky is awe-inspiring. The Bogong High Plains float between 1,600 and 1,800 metres – a mass of heath, grass and wetland scattered with clumps of wildflowers quivering gently in the breeze. It’s the kind of place that makes you want to swirl around with your arms wide and sing the “the hills are alive…” a la Maria von Trapp.
The ground covering makes for a cushy start, notwithstanding the fact that yesterday’s deluge has turned parts of the track into a running creek. Frogs croak. Boots slosh. We leap from one raised cushion of grass to the next. But, so far, we haven’t lost ourselves and the mere fact of walking independently really enhances the sense of discovery.
In winter, snow lays a blanket of white over everything here and the only occasional trail markers are tall pine poles – numbered for easy identification in a whiteout. At Pole 333 we detour to historic Westons Hut in the West Kiewa Valley, a steep descent through skeletons of snow gums (burned in the 2006 bushfires) that gives us a prime view of imposing Mount Feathertop, which is Victoria’s second highest peak at 1922 metres.
Westons is one of many historic huts that litter the High Country, reminders from a time when its grassy meadows were considered prime grazing for cattle and sheep, and hardy mountain men built shelters from slabs of snow gum or corrugated iron. The practice continued from the mid 1800s until 2005 when grazing was deemed too damaging to this fragile alpine environment.
Tawonga Huts marks the end of our first day and, after 20 kilometres and almost seven hours on the go, Jean Francois’s camp looks as welcoming as a five-star hotel. A white cloth covers a trestle table, fairy lights hang from a massive twisted and gnarled snow gum, and our sleeping quarters – a cross between a hammock and tent – span the trees like spiderwebs.
Jean-Francois braved knee-high rivers and rough tracks to meet us here, towing a custom camper trailer fitted out with everything from USB charging points to a hot shower. Only one of us is bothered to use it straight away though, our sights set instead on the frosted glasses of Billson’s Beechworth gin and tonic, clinking with ice.
It’s an irrefutable fact that food dominates the minds of hikers and Jean-Francois’ is seriously good. “In France, we don’t shop for a recipe, we shop for good seasonal produce and then design a menu around it.”
He takes the same approach here and our antipasto spread includes smoked chicken and prosciutto from Tawonga South Butchery, and goats and cheese and brie from Milawa in the King Valley.
“The quality of food and wine available in this region is amazing and we use local and organic as much as possible,” he says.
On an open fire, the long-awaited lamb is chargrilled and served with roasted vegetables and an orange and herb salad, and it’s about fifty times better than the two-minute noodles and canned tuna I usually dine on when out hiking in the wild.
With bellies full, we perch on logs fireside with a glass of that smooth Tempranillo we were promised. Dancing flames crackle and pop. A billion stars argue with a full moon over who is brighter. We’re the modern day equivalent of mountain men and women – sans cows and horses.
“My motto is that simplicity is luxury,” Jean-Francois says, and it’s a claim that seems accurate on two counts. Not only do we not have to worry about logistics, life itself is simple out here. Mobile coverage is sporadic and there are no reminders of the city life we’ve left behind.
“You don’t need much to be comfortable,” he says. “With a little bottle of gas, a battery and a solar panel, we have hot water, refrigeration and good food. That’s all that’s essential.”
Minimising environmental impact is also important to Jean-Francois. He participates in the global movement 1% for the Planet, he plants snow gum seedlings with a Mount Hotham nursery and runs a leave-no-trace operation.
Later I slink away to my treetop home, hovering discreetly above the grass and bush, and it envelops me like a cocoon though, albeit a spacious one. The base is surprisingly rigid and there’s only a gentle bounce when I roll over that lulls me to sleep.
“MY MOTTO IS THAT SIMPLICITY IS LUXURY. YOU DON’T NEED MUCH TO BE COMFORTABLE.”
Day two is considerably hillier but a cloudless blue sky keeps us pumped. Three mobs of wild brumbies scatter over the hills, manes trailing in the breeze. A descent through snow gums leads to Cobungra Gap and the chunky log cabin of Dibbins Hut where a snack and a soak of the feet in the nearby creek revive us before the solid climb up Swindlers Spur.
At Derrick’s Hut we laze on grass sprinkled with golden paper daisies and purple grass trigger plants, beneath the shade of a moss-covered snow gum. Our packed lunches include possibly the best – no, definitely the best – muffin of my life; double choc and caramel, slightly crispy on the edges and gooey in the middle. It’s enough to fuel us up Mount Loch where 360-degree views take in the Razorback Ridge, Mount Feathertop and our end point, Mount Hotham village.
When we eventually rendezvous with Jean-Francois again, he says: “I’d be very happy if people get to the end of this walk and decide they’re going to buy their own gear and get out there more.”
Personally, I feel we’ve been spoiled beyond redemption. From now on, it’s camping the Jean-Francois way or bust.
This intriguing new Australian festival in the Blue Mountains celebrates the Autumn equinox, tickles our senses in the dark and intimately connects us with an ancient landscape.
The Autumn equinox comes and goes in Australia each year without much thought or fanfare from your average punter. Despite its celestial, seasonal and scientific significance, it actually holds a much deeper and mysterious meaning in other parts of the world.
In the northern hemisphere, for example, revellers hold torches as they march through the city of Soria, a city in northern Spain to mark the changing of seasons. Other worshippers in Vilnius, Lithuania light candles along the Neris River just after sunset.
At last, there’s finally a festival on our doorstep to similarly mark the special occasion in one of our favourite spots in the country. Created and managed by Blue Mountains Tourism the inaugural ‘Autumn Celebration of the Senses’ kicks off this weekend.
Highlighting all that is great, hidden and mesmerising about the Blue Mountains (just a short one-hour drive from the centre of Sydney) the new festival spans three weekends in which visitors will be treated to a range of both free and ticketed events amidst the backdrop of one of the most ancient and revered natural landscapes in Australia.
The events and activities at this festival are all focused around the four main sensory themes of Taste, Hear, See and Feel. No matter the time of day, guests are assured epicurean treats, craft beverages from local producers, live music, free yoga, light installations and art workshops.
Here’s a rundown of the hidden treasures, the flavours, aromas and entertainment you can expect around every alluring sandstone corner:
A WEEKEND OF TASTINGS:25th to 27th March
Hosted at the famous Hydro Majestic Hotel with its commanding views over the Megalong Valley, ‘Feast’ is our kind of headliner. The hotel’s ballroom will be transformed into an exotic and sensual banquet hall, hosting a culinary adventure for adventurous guests. For something a bit more refined (or even as part of your recovery) jump in your hire car and pop into the farm gates for some fresh produce along the Bells Line of Road.
A WEEKEND OF LIGHT AND SIGHT: 1st to 3rd April
Be mesmerised by master card handler, trickster and pickpocket Harrison Milas in his Unfair Advantage show at Pigeon Lane in the iconic mountain town of Katoomba. While in town, the Great Art Deco Ball at the Carrington Hotel is not to be missed. But the real magic during the equinox season is when the sun goes down over the mountains. Visit Katoomba Falls Reserve Night-Lit Walk which takes you past the Three Sisters or sip and stargaze over the weekend at Dryridge Estate.
Photo: David Hill, Deep Hill Media.
A WEEKEND OF ALL THE FEELS: 8th to 10th April
The Blue Mountains is a dense, rugged and ancient landscape with more than one-million square metres of dense bushland. But there’s something about the feel of the sandstone under your fingertips and the dewiness of the eucalyptus air that makes the nature experiences in this part of the world all the more special. Treat yourself to sunrise or sunset yoga over the Jamison Valley from the lookout at Echo Point. Mountain bike on world-class trails or test your nerve with Blue Mountains Climbing School, the choice (and all the feels) are yours. Visit visitbluemountains.com.au/equinoxfor tickets, accommodation and more details.
Japanese men battle for dominance, blessings and the approval of the Gods at Himeji City’s Fighting Festival.
“Yoiyasa, Yoiyasa, Yoiyasa! (look to God and prosperity)” the crowd of almost naked Japanese men shouted energetically. They are carrying a two-tonne yatai, a portable Shinto shrine where the spirit of the local God resides. Despite their scantily clad dress and the cool breeze of the Autumn night, their faces glimmer with sweat and their brows are deep in fury as adrenaline pumps through their bodies. They are getting ready for a battle and from the looks of sheer determination on their faces, it is clear that no one was going down without a fight.
I’m about to witness the grand show at Himeji City’s Nada no Kenka Matsuri (Fighting Festival), a unique Japanese festival centred around brawling and wrestling. Yep, you read that right. A festival in Japan all about violence. When my Japanese friend invited me to her hometown to witness an epic battle, I was confused and very intrigued. The Japanese are known to be polite, reserved and respectful. Definitely not the type of people to let their emotions run high and battle it out with violence. Right?
Wrong. During Autumn, the country hosts a range of Shinto fighting festivals. This one in Hyogo Prefecture is the largest and most famous of them all, drawing in crowds of approximately 100,000 people annually pre COVID. Contrary to the traditional Autumn festivals, where local Shinto Gods are taken from their shrines for a stroll around the neighbourhood for good luck and prayers, this one is a bit different. The Gods, as well as the men of Himeji City, are preparing for the monumental combat of the year tonight.
Every year on October 14th and 15th, the seven districts of Himeji City come together to participate in some good ole friendly neighbourhood competition. Each part of town transports their local God to battle on a yatai which is dressed up in a colour that represents their district. The shrines are slammed amongst each other unforgivingly in an extraordinary act of dominance until a winner is left standing. It is so dangerous and rowdy that people have been seriously injured – some have even died in the past.
Terasaki Yoji, who has been partaking in the festival for almost 40 years, describes the event as a great source of local pride. “Participating in the festival makes me want to pass on this special ancient tradition to the future generations and beyond. Everyone from Himeji is very excited to join the event and it is a great honour to be able to represent your community.” Young boys from the city, although too young to carry the portable shrine, cannot wait to carry on the legacy of their families and to pay homage to their roots.
I stand there watching as another group of men with another yatai and different colour headbands, representing another part of town, pass by me. I am half in shock and half in awe. In a country where people dress modestly and conservatively, it felt strange to see Japanese men wear barely anything except for a fundoshi. This piece of loincloth, similar to what sumo wrestlers wear, left their butt cheeks hanging out and baring all. There are so many butts. I am not sure where to look, or, where not to look. My eyes dart around the unusual scene unfolding before me.
Up close, the yatai’s intricate details stood out clearly and could not be missed. It is no wonder that each float takes several years to put together and requires the expertise and attention of specialised carpenters and craftsmen. Each portable shrine is decorated extensively with delicately handcrafted symbols, motifs and carvings representing the local district’s residential God and stories from ancient legends. The shrine jostling before me was carrying the God from Matsubara shrine, the symbol of the dragon crest donning the top of the structure plus the red dress of the float and the men gave it away.
Inside the yatai sit four taiko drummers, noriko, who are dressed in impressive kimonos, just as detailed as the yatai. Their arms swing in excellent synchronisation with each other, providing the non-stop soundtrack for the night. “It is said they have the hardest job of all!” my friend joked. “Noriko don’t have a break and drum on throughout the whole night, even when the shrines fall in the battle.” Yatai are truly a testimony to Japan’s emphasis on fine attention to detail and the country’s constant strive towards excellence.
As the men carry the shrine towards the battleground, they jostle it in an almost dance-like motion. They move it side to side and up and down to amuse and excite the God inside. Occasionally the shrine would drop to the ground with a loud thud, giving the men a well-deserved break. Controlling such a heavy structure is not an easy feat – it takes the strength of approximately 75 grown and able-bodied men to transport the float. Much to my surprise, Terasaki explains, “Those who transport the shrine actually don’t practise beforehand. The person at the front of the yatai has a job of calling out the direction and the nobori (men who carry the shrine)match their movements to the instruction.”
As the final shrine makes its way over to the open-air amphitheatre in the valley nearby the Matsubara Hachiman Shrine, the scene of the ultimate battle, I head back to our prime viewing spot situated high above the battleground. Reminiscent of the Coliseum in Rome, the venue is jampacked with people from all 360 degrees. People rush back to their seats as the event was about to unfold, returning from the food vendors who line the entrance to the amphitheatre. The charcoaled smell of yakitori (grilled chicken) and dried squid, along with the buzz of excitement and anticipation whiffed through the air.
On the battleground, the shrines begin bouncing up and down, up and down, similar to a boxer moving as he prepares himself before throwing the first punch at an opponent. Older men who are not physically able to carry the shrine carry pom pom sticks and surround the shrine on the battleground. They wave it up and down in fast and quick motions, getting quicker and quicker and foreshadowing the upcoming action. The shouting and chanting of the nobori grew in intensity. The sound of the taiko drums thunders louder and louder, ringing through the whole venue and my body. The battle of the year was about to begin.
As the shrines slam together (yatai-awase), my heart slams inside of my chest too. BANG. The sound of the slams vibrates throughout the amphitheatre. The men jammed the shrines towards each other. BANG. Ashes and dust kick off into the air, surrounding the clash. BANG. “The scene is said to represent the Gods fighting in heaven with the sound of the collision representing thunder. The more loud and rowdy everyone is, the more pleased the Gods will be.” my friend explains.
The drums continue with even more intensity and the chants too. Screams, shrieks and gasps fill the air as the crowd watches on the edge of their seats. I never understood the exhilaration and rush of a live battle but I did now. The energy was contagious and the air was thick in suspense and excitement. Each collision built on the growing enthusiasm felt by everyone. In the midst of all this, the noriko continue drumming in such a beautiful and almost dream-like motion, never missing a beat. The shrines continue to jam into each other and the nobori keep chanting. There were no rules. In this grand event, pairs or sometimes even three yatai battle each other until all have fought, providing hours of entertainment until one is crowned the ultimate winner.
The whole amphitheatre echos as the shrine topple to the ground and the crowd of people around it disperse quickly, careful to not get hurt by the powerful floats. I chuckle and think to myself – it turns out Japan isn’t that much of a quiet and peaceful country all the time.
A staple on breakfast tables across Sri Lanka, hoppers unite the bright flavours of this island nation in a mouthful, as Natasha Dragun discovers.
If you’re not a fan of washing up, then you’ll love making hoppers (appam), a nuanced coconut-based dish traditional to southern India and Sri Lanka that requires a few pantry staples and very ‘seasoned’ pan to prepare – and very little else.
I was introduced to a variety of this breakfast favourite almost two decades ago, sitting in a Tamil Nadu garden where peacocks crooned and tea was served by dapper bow-tied waiters. My order was string hoppers (idiyaapam): unctuous noodles made from rice flour fermented with coconut water, coconut milk and salt, before being moulded into palm-sized patties then steamed until they resemble wicker mats.
The surprisingly cloud-like parcels were the perfect pouch on which to rest tongue-numbing condiments: coconut sambol (freshly grated coconut, lime, red onion, chilli, Maldives fish flakes, black peppercorns, salt); lunu miris (a spicy paste similar to the former sambol, but minus the coconut); and a menagerie of curries and dahls with aromas I still dream of to this day.
I didn’t think it could get much better – until I landed in Colombo, the steamy Sri Lankan capital, and was tasted the crispier, pancake-like version of the dish.
Rather than being squished into a tangle of noodles, the appam edition of hoppers features a batter that is swilled around your cook’s seasoned (aka rarely washed) pan. The end result is a pearly pancake ‘bowl’ that can be pimped up with a fried egg (recommended) and then topped with all aforementioned accoutrements.
“Think of the pan like a complex painting,” says George, my guide on an Unmapped Travel tour around Sri Lanka. “The artist keeps layering and layering – they add and mould, and things develop and get better over time.” He’s not wrong.
Despite the limited number of ingredients involved and the short cooking time – just a couple of minutes in that magical pan – these breakfast baskets couldn’t get any tastier, or more textural. And it’s not just the cookware adding to the abundance of attitude: there’s plenty of skill in preparation.
The appam flour is customarily made by hand: rice is soaked for six hours before being pounded and then left to brew with palm toddy (fermented sap from coconut flowers) overnight. It’s then seasoned with coconut milk, whole eggs and salt to create a bubbling batter. Some rebels – like my Sri Lankan friend back in Sydney – dare to add a couple of Marie biscuits to the mixture, to give the concoction a malty note that caramelises into crispness around the edges. There’s also a dessert version suffused with smoky-sweet palm syrup.
Making hoppers in a Sri Lankan home is quite possibly the ultimate way to learn about this history of this hands-on dish, as I fast find out on the outskirts of Kandy in the tea-leaf-laced heart of the country. Here, in an eye-popping pink kitchen, the Kolitha family tell me how traditionally, hoppers were cooked at home over coconut-shell embers. The origins of the dish are a little mysterious, although American food writer and historian Gil Marks credits the original recipe to early Jewish settlers in southern India – around 2,000 years ago.
Today, the Kolitha family use the blue-hot flames of a gas stove to ensure the quick firing of the hopper batter in aluminium pans. They prepare the pancakes with deft-like precision while I watch, swirling one of the small, deep vessels over heat until batter spills over the sides, forming lacy, caramel-hued edges.
They then cover the pan to cook the pillowy portion that pools at its bottom – the spongy goodness where eggs are cracked to rest before being topped with black pepper. Coconut crunches in a mortar and pestle, fresh chilli is chopped, limes are squeezed. A quick clatter of crockery later, and the hoppers are stacked, steaming, in front of me. Fragrant, fresh and piping hot – this has to be the ultimate way to start the day.
GET IN THE KNOW
Got a sweet tooth? Sri Lankans do, too. Their dessert version of traditionally savoury hoppers sees a heaping of treacle, palm syrup or honey added to the batter. Best served with chopped bananas and milky tea.
An alcohol made from the sap of coconut flowers, toddy usually begins fermenting immediately after being collected by a palm ‘tapper’. Sweet and low in alcohol (around 4%), it’s often turned into jaggery (a type of sugar) or a stronger liquor.
Voodoo first made its way to Louisiana in 1791 when West Africans fled Haiti after the slave revolt and moved to New Orleans (NOLA). It’s in the deep south where they merged their voodoo rituals and practices with the local Catholic population. Voodoo is still very much entrenched in Creole culture, and if you wander around NOLA you’ll find gris-gris dolls, potions and other talismans in stores, such as chicken feet which are believed to bring luck. In the New Orleans Historic Voodoo Museum, you’ll browse artefacts, antique voodoo dolls, taxidermy and stand before altars where you can leave notes or make wishes. Contrary to popular voodoo misconceptions, only positive wishes here are allowed. So before you ask, no, you can’t hex your ex. voodoomuseum.com
The Hall of Opium Museum in Thailand’s notorious Golden Triangle pulls no punches. It uses multimedia and graphic pictures to educate and elucidate about the perils of opium and drug use. You’ll learn about the history of the Golden Triangle, the origins of opium, the opium war, opium warlords, drug smugglers, the battle against poppy growing and the violence associated with drug trafficking. The most confronting exhibits are in the Opium Effects Zone, where images of long-term drug-affected users are on display.
There’s an artificial poppy field where you can learn about various species of poppy flowers and even a mock-up of a Chinese tea house in Yaowarat. Finish on a high (no pun intended) in the Magic Medicine Zone that also shines a light on the many positive aspects of opioid drugs like morphine.
With drug smuggling carrying the death penalty in Thailand, this museum sends an ominous warning for drug dealers, users and abusers. maefahluang.org
Not all relationships end well and this museum explores the fallout at the end of the relationship rainbow. Housed in a baroque palace, the Museum of Broken Relationships displays personal objects from former lovers, paired with a brief story. For example, the sentence, “He was straight and I wasn’t” is written alongside a pair of basketball shoes. Voyeuristic or pure intrigue? We think it offers a fascinating insight into the human condition. The exhibits range from the light-hearted and hilarious (like the toaster that was pinched so an ex couldn’t make toast again) to heartbreaking and tragic (you can read real-life notes of betrayal and regret). There’s even tickets to the 1968 Mexico Olympics on display, which were used as a lure by a teenage girl to the handsome next-door neighbour, whom she had since married and divorced. In the ten years since it opened, the museum has amassed a collection of some 2,785 objects and has locations in Zagreb and Los Angeles. You can even add to the collection by contributing from your own stash of heartbreak trinkets. brokenships.com
While spending your time at a museum dedicated to human disease sounds like a morose and macabre excursion, the Museum of Human Disease offers a strangely fascinating insight into pathology and anatomy without lending itself to creepiness. Boasting more than 2,500 diseased human tissue specimens, this place is a stark reminder that the life choices we make can be detrimental. The collection includes diseases and their complications, including HIV/AIDs, cancer, strokes, heart attacks, diabetes and the effects that drugs can have on the body. Alien-like tumours sit alongside giant tapeworms, and there are organs on display which have been riddled with tuberculosis. And if you’ve ever wondered what a cancerous lung or a gangrenous foot looks like, you’ve come to the right place. Many of the diseases on show here are associated with poor lifestyle, so if you ever needed some encouragement to kick the bottle, there’s a hanging diseased liver which shows how alcohol abuse can turn it from pretty pink into something that resembles a dropped pie. The displays may be confronting, but the overall message is positive: our body is a temple and if we habitually mistreat it with toxins, we will pay a hefty price. diseasemuseum.med.unsw.edu.au
Bunker 42 is a declassified Cold War military museum in Moscow that also moonlights as an entertainment complex. Once reserved for Stalin during the Cold War, it was a originally designed as a nuclear bunker located 65 metres underground in the centre of the city. This labyrinth, filled with kilometers of tunnels, has now been converted to feature replica KGB interrogation rooms, bombing raid sirens, a Cold War interactive exhibit and a restaurant. Here you can order yourself some borscht, potato pancakes with sour cream and a chaser of home distilled vodka. bunker42.com
When it rolls around to New Year’s Eve each year, it can be difficult to remember what celebrations took place the year before. Was it that epic party in the suburbs? Or was that the year before? Did we sit on a couch and binge Lord of the Rings?
For those on Chimu Adventures’ recent New Year’s Eve Antarctica flight, it is safe to assume that this won’t be a New Year that evaporates from memory. In fact, it is difficult to think of a more blockbuster way to bring in the New Year than at the bottom of the world, with a glass of champagne and endless plains of white.
Giddy excitement at the prospect of catching an international flight for the first time in several pandemic-ravaged years turned into panic. My flight wasn’t on the list of departures. I searched high and low for Qantas flight 1336 to Antarctica, but it was nowhere to be seen. Did I get the time wrong?
It wasn’t until I realised that Antarctica wasn’t the destination, rather Melbourne – this flight is unique in that it is the only international flight departing Tullamarine Airport (that I know of) where the destination point is the same as the departure. Chimu Adventures run flights from Melbourne to Antarctica and back – a 12 hour round trip.
After checking in, and receiving a complimentary Antarctica sticker in my passport (if you don’t get the sticker, did you really go?) we were in the air and on our way to The Big Ice.
Antarctica is perhaps the only place on Earth we haven’t conquered as humans. It is shrouded in mystery, impossible for even the most indifferent of humans to not feel at least a little curious about. This was certainly the case for Dan Bull, world-record holding adventurer who became the only Australian to climb Antarctica’s highest mountain, Mt Sidley (4,285m). Bull was on-board on the night and offered valuable insights about his experiences in a speech to guests during the flight.
There’s not much that can prepare you for the first glimpse of the bottom continent’s coast, blue ocean water and the white of the ice creating a beautiful contrast. As well as being the coldest and windiest of the seven continents, it’s also easily forgotten that it is the most mountainous. So while flying along at 18,000 feet might sound like a long way up in the air, it is in fact quite close to what’s happening below.
Minimal cloud cover meant the vast mountainous regions, covered head to toe in glacier, could be seen without effort, as could the swathes of frozen lakes and ice bergs of epic proportions. Mount Erebus too, the southernmost active volcano on Earth which only erupted two years ago, was visible, steam emitting eerily from its apex.
Perhaps the most striking aspect of Antarctica wasn’t any of the major landmarks that we saw, but the sheer level of white – bright, almost glary white as far as the eye can see.
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At midnight Melbourne time, with complete light visible from outside, there was the most unusual of countdowns into the New Year. The entire plane is in a festive mood, flight attendants and occasionally pilots interacting with the guests as if they are hosting the party. Dan Bull is in demand – walking around fielding questions amicably as if in a 12 hour press-conference.
After plenty more champagne and plenty more white, it’s time to head back to Melbourne. The last few hours are mostly filled with sleep, curtains drawn on the still very bright light outside, and the year gone, and an extraordinary experience.
Better known as the holiday spot for newlyweds or the nearly dead, this idyllic speck of Aussie territory in the South Pacific has a new breed of young locals that have turned its incredible beaches into a party that can’t be missed. For the last three years, the Black Anchor bar in Kingston has started relocating its booze, staff and good times down to the water’s edge. The sunset parties and late-night DJ sets are the place to be for surfers, photographers, drone pilots, jewellery makers, fashion designers and digital nomads that all call the island home. But it’s during the annual simulcast of Triple J’s Hottest 100 that things step up a notch. That’s when a flotilla of eskies, rafts and half-naked bodies – all holding bottomless cocktails – spend dawn until dusk listening to music and floating in the gentle turquoise waters of Emily Bay. They proudly fly a pirate flag, but never fear, as there’s no chance of a mutiny here because outsiders are made to feel very welcome. blackanchorbar.com
Forget about swimming with whales, if you’re after an animal encounter that is truly unforgettable, it’s time to go crab hunting. But we’re not talking about any old crustacean you might just stumble upon at the beach, oh no. The coconut crab – also known as ‘uga’ – is a large nocturnal land arthropod that can grow to one metre in length and weigh up to four kilograms. You’ll find these nightmarish creatures on the island of Niue (where they are actually considered a delicacy), and you can see them up close(ish) with Taue Uga Tours. A local guide will take you deep into the jungle, where you’ll learn all about the lifecycle of the uga and discover some of the methods used to capture them. And if you’re feeling really brave, you may even get to hold one. Just watch out for your fingers. facebook.com/taueugatours
There are 83 islands in the sublime Vanuatu archipelago, but the relatively unknown Kwakea Island – a short charter flight north of Espiritu Santo – is the undisputed adventure utopia for thrill seekers who are desperate to live out their wildest shipwrecked dreams. Australian and Ni-Vanuatu citizen, Brett Kerr, has been coming to Kwakea with his family for over a decade. Setting up Kwakea Island Adventures in 2019 has given him only a limited chance to share this newly-opened slice of paradise with guests that are looking for a private surf break, daily spearfishing, scuba diving and hunting wild boar with locals. This place has certainly got a tinge of Lord of the Flies about it. Pass me the conch. kwakeaisland.com
What do you get when you cross volleyball with murderball? Te Ano, the national sport of Tuvalu. This surprisingly brutal game is played with two balls and two teams made up of men and women of all ages. They line up on the malae (pitch) facing each other, before throwing the balls as hard as they can. Players must hit them back with their hands (in a volleyball style) to prevent them from hitting the ground, as only the designated catcher is permitted to catch the balls. Points are scored when the opposition drops a ball, and the first team to reach ten points wins. Sounds a bit crazy? You bet it is – especially considering the balls are made from dried pandanus leaves, making them super hard and heavy. timelesstuvalu.com
What’s better than a white-sand beach, we hear you ask? A pink one, of course! Les Sables Roses is located on the remote southeast corner of Rangiroa in French Polynesia, and is an Instagrammer’s dream come true. The sand gets its cotton candy-coloured hue from a mixture of crushed shells, eroded coral and foraminifera – a microscopic organism with a pale pink casing. When washed up on the shore and blended with normal sand, it creates the shimmering blush tone that people are so obsessed with. Aside from admiring the sand and taking a million photos of it, the beach is also a wonderful spot for snorkelling, with the nearby reef home to sharks and a vibrant array of tropical fish. tahititourisme.com
Picture the perfect swimming pool. Water so sparkling and clear you could read a book under it, fringed by flawless palms and a temperature so right that a cooling dip perfectly soothes the edge off the afternoon tropical sun. Imagine said swimming pool is on a tiny South Pacific island hundreds of kilometres from civilisation, and is considered crowded when two other people turn up. The stretch of water between Motu Piscine (Swimming Pool Island) and the nearby sandbar is as crystal clear as any pool cleaner’s pond. The fine, white-powder sand that lines the shores creates a blue hue that beckons from across the lagoon to the top of Mount Hiro, the peak of Raivavae Island, one of the more remote of French Polynesia’s Austral Islands. One of the few pensiones in the region will set up a picnic for you with cold beer and fresh fruit. It’s perfect here. Say hi to Eleanor, she’s awesome. raivavaetama.com
There are few cooler experiences than diving into the warm waters of Marovo Lagoon to swim with a fever of manta rays. This is exactly how a perfect day at Uepi Island Resort in the Solomon Islands begins. Luckily for Uepi guests, there is a manta ‘cleaning station’ just a three-minute boat ride from the jetty. Here, the mantas circle a coral bommie, while copepod parasites clean their skin and gills. This allows snorkellers to swim among these graceful giants as they go about their day spa. If you can hold your breath long enough, you can even swim below and almost touch their bellies. And best of all, yours is the only boat there. You’ll see more mantas than tourists. uepi.com
TREEHOUSE Treehouse Bure on Matangi Private Island Resort, Fiji
A treehouse probably isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when you think of accommodation options in Fiji. Overwater bungalows? Sure. Swanky resorts? Yep. But a treehouse? No way. Well, let us be the ones to introduce to you the incredible split-level treehouse bures of Matangi Private Island Resort. Nestled high up in the lush rainforest foliage, these three unique abodes all feature a king-size bed, outdoor lava rock shower and hot tub, spacious sun deck with ocean views and – wait for it – a daily supply of freshly baked cookies. If you can tear yourself away from this little slice of treetop heaven you’ll discover there’s plenty to do on this pristine 97-hectare island, including scuba diving, hiking, fishing and sailing. fiji.travel
Soaring through a jungle canopy at high speeds – with nothing but a harness and some leather gloves – is not just a cool way to get from A to B, it makes you feel like Tarzan or an elite SAS soldier descending into a covert South Pacific mission. There’s no better way to see the dense rainforest of Vanuatu’s main island of Efate than on a Jungle Zipline tour. After a helicopter ride up to the island’s highest peak, you can spend more than three hours traversing between ridiculously high platforms, before zipping across a massive valley with panoramic views over Mele Bay. For the full experience, we recommend not holding onto your belt. You’ll look way cooler (and less petrified) with your arms outstretched. vanuatujunglezipline.com
The ultimate dream for all surfers is a perfect set of private waves. In the remote northern corner of Santa Isabel in the Solomon Islands, Kagata Surf Village boasts secret breaks, tropical waters, friendly locals and a slower pace of life. When at Kagata, you’re tech-free and living a simple back-to-basics existence. In the morning you’re out fishing for your dinner, snorkelling the reefs at sunset and filling in downtime by riding the most epic, hidden swell in all of the South Pacific. Breathe in the fresh air and forget about the last few years of lockdown life. A stay at Kagata is good for the soul. surftheearth.com.au/kagata-village
Like everyone else in the world, you’ve probably heard of the Blue Cave in Vanuatu. But this secret spot in Tonga is so cool, and so different, it makes the Blue Cave look boring. Mariner’s Cave is on the west wall, at the north end of Nuapupu Island. The secret entry is between two and three metres underwater, so you have to hold your breath for a while to be able to come up inside the cave. Once inside, the only light is the bright turquoise blue tones that stream through the underwater entrance. Best time to snorkel or dive here is later in the afternoon when the western sun is stronger through the entrance you’ve just swum through. A warning: the swell can get pretty big in this cave, so take a buddy for safety.
OUTER BODY EXPERIENCE Ronnie’s Nakamal (Kava Bar), Vanuatu
Kava is almost ubiquitous with celebration in this part of the world, but the toxins from the root which make the questionable brown liquid in Vanuatu are known for being particularly potent. Maybe that’s the secret as to why the Ni-Vanuatu are so happy all the time? Nakamals (kava bars) dot the roadside of most major villages, but you know kava has been brewing come dusk when you see the prick of a red light bulb hanging in the darkness. In the capital of Port Vila, Ronnie’s Nakamal is an institution. If you’re a kava virgin, try gulping down just half a shell to start with. This stuff knocks your socks off. vanuatu.travel
A patch of palm-fringed infertile land on the island of Niue may seem like the last place you’d expect to find a sculpture park, but this tiny atoll in the South Pacific is full of surprises. Located just two kilometres from the village of Liku, the Hikulagi Sculpture Park was established in 1996 by members of the Tahiono Arts Collective – a group of local and New Zealand-based artists who wanted to create a space for people to showcase their work and also highlight environmental issues such as climate change and pollution. Most of the sculptures have been crafted using recycled objects, and visitors can even add their own touch to Protean Habitat – the centrepiece of the park and an ongoing, ever-changing project. niueisland.com
Have you ever heard of the timeless South Pacific town of Taiohae in Nuku Hiva? Don’t worry, neither has the rest of the world. As sailboats bob in the harbour here, locals cruise through the town on horseback. Nuku Hiva is huge (the second largest island in French Polynesia after Tahiti) but it’s virtually empty. It’s most recognisable by the razor-edged basaltic cliffs smothered in green foliage, which plunge into the Pacific waves below. Inland, there are lush waterfalls and valleys which quickly rise into green, prehistoric plateaus. But Nuku Hiva isn’t just a hidden paradise, it’s also home to French Polynesia’s most mystical ruins. You could spend an entire day just wandering around the remnants of Nuku’s sacred marae (religious sites), picturing yourself mixing with locals on the shores of an ancient world. tahititourisme.com.au
Blue River Provincial Park is just 60 kilometres from Noumea, but on arrival you’d think you were entering another country, as the crimson red dirt and dense forest surrounding the valley is more reminiscent of inland Queensland. Grab a kayak from the lone adventure hire shack in Pont Perignon and paddle along the river, moving through the thousands of bleached gum oak trunks that have emerged from the creation of a dam upstream. You can even pull your kayak up onto the thick mud and wander the river’s banks. Don’t be surprised if you’re the only person here. Our pro tip is to make your way out at dusk, because nothing is more terrifying (or cooler) than seeing these eerie river ghosts in the moonlight. newcaledonia.travel
Much like the mystery and intrigue that swirls around Stonehenge and the statues of Easter Island, Samoa also has its very own perplexing ancient structure: the Pulemelei Mound. Located deep in the overgrown wilderness of Savai’i, nobody can quite explain exactly when this huge, pyramid-like pile of basalt stones (it measures 65 by 60 metres) appeared, or even why it is there. Theories suggest it was used for religious ceremonies or as a burial monument or lookout platform, while recent excavations hint at some kind of settlement, with ovens and stone tools found dating back 2,000 years ago. Whatever its purpose, you can find the impressive mound slowly being swallowed by vegetation not far from Letolo Plantation, and if you climb to the top you’ll be rewarded with views of the ocean. samoa.travel
WELCOME TO THE SOLOMONS THE SOUTH PACIFIC’S COOLEST COUNTRY
The cool kids at school were always mysterious. There was an aura of unknown about them that continually surprised you.
Sure, there were more popular kids – the flashy wannabes that demanded all the attention and loved a crowd – but it was the cool kids that you really wanted to be friends with. They were the ones that took you to the unexpected corners of the playground and on adventures you never thought possible.
Welcome to the Solomon Islands, the coolest kid in the South Pacific. This is a country that in 2019 had less than 30,000 visitors, and we just can’t understand why.
Just a short, three-hour flight from Brisbane in Australia, the Solomons are made up of just under a thousand islands sprinkled throughout the clear Coral Sea. These islands are home to a range of low-key resorts, quaint village stays, private islands and experiences with locals that will change your life.
Before breakfast, you can be swimming with mantas in the world’s second largest lagoon, then in the afternoon you’re diving down to a Japanese troop carrier sunk by the US forces in World War II.
Why not hike into a dormant volcano or spend the night in a treehouse, overlooking a perfectly still, turquoise lake? Drink a Solbrew (local beer) in an overwater bar as local villagers dance to traditional music. Freedive through underwater caverns and into the bellies of ancient volcanic islands. Disconnect from the world and surf on private breaks with locals, rarely ever seen by the rest of civilisation. Or simply spend a day on your own island, in a hammock, watching the blues and greens of the sea change colour with the rising and setting of the sun.
If it’s high-rise resorts, club sandwiches and day spas you prefer, then this cool kid in the South Pacific is definitely not your friend. But if it’s boutique, barefoot, off-the-grid escapism that you’ve been craving over the last 18 months, then join the gang. This is seriously the place for you. Even the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge spent their honeymoon at Tavanipupu Resort in Marau Sound. But let’s be honest, the Sollies are much more suited to the cooler prince. You know? The other one… We’re looking at you, Haz. visitsolomons.com.sb
Amid the devastating tourism downturn experienced in Fiji, two mates who met at university, Gavin Statham and Simon Gelling (an Aussie expat from country NSW), have come together to create the Kailoma Brewing Company, a micro-brewery that produces Fiji’s first-ever craft beer range. Their new beer is called Mokusiga (mo-koo-sing-a) which is a colloquial term used by locals as an expression for killing time. The word is used to embody the very essence of relaxing in Fiji and not having a care in the world. For anyone who has ever visited Fiji’s Coral Coast, time here can feel almost elastic. Which is why right now – as we’re desperately counting the hours until we can travel again – we really like the idea of Fiji time in a bottle. mokusiga.com.fj
CONSERVATION Release turtles back into the wild, Arnavon Islands
On a tiny atoll, hidden among seven hundred odd islands in the Solomons archipelago, is the South Pacific’s largest rookery of the critically endangered Hawksbill turtles. The Arnavon Islands are about as far off the grid as you can imagine, and it’s here that local rangers from the neighbouring islands of Kia, Katupika and Waghena work tirelessly to protect the turtles’ breeding habitats. A stay in the Arnavon Islands can include assisting these rangers with their nightly monitoring of egg laying and – depending on your time of visit – releasing the hatchlings into the sea. The water and corals here are untouched and truly spectacular, making for a great spot to go snorkelling, too. Our tip is to stay at Papatura Resort for a few nights and adventure up to explore the islands. papatura.com
Markets in the South Pacific can cast a spell over you. They’re frenetic, friendly and an assault on the senses. But in New Caledonia’s capital, Noumea, Le Marché de la Moselle is a true microcosm of French and South Pacific culture. Here, fresh fish, fruit and vegetables are packed at almost shoulder height everywhere you look. Locals spruik and shout their discounts at you in French, but the pièce de résistance is the hexagonal (and very French-looking) creperie and breakfast bar. La Buvette du Marché serves delicious baked eggs, pastries, crepes and an espresso that wouldn’t be out of place in Le Marais. Come for the food, but stay for the conversation with local traders and fishermen. newcaledonia.travel
Ben Wilson is best known for once kitesurfing the biggest wave in history at the iconic Cloudbreak in 2011. It was so big and so epic that car company Jeep turned the ride into a global television advertisement. Ben’s love for kiting all started on nearby Namotu Island, which is in the Mamanuca Island group, just off the coast of Nadi. Namotu gets surf and wind year-round, and has a wide variety of reefs for beginners and experienced surfers. The trade winds have made Namotu Ben’s playground and his place of work. He runs private and small-group kitesurfing experiences, including his infamous seven-day Kite Week. Beer yoga, paleo food, charter fishing expeditions, dedicated coaching and world-class equipment – this place seriously has it all. namotuislandfiji.com
It may not be the highest peak on Rarotonga, but Te Rua Manga (also known as The Needle) is certainly the most recognisable. Jutting out of the green jungle canopy like a – you guessed it – needle, the almost two-kilometre hike to reach this landmark starts south of Avatiu Harbour and follows a well-marked route through some of the island’s most rugged terrain. It’s pretty steep in sections and you’ll be scrambling over enormous tree roots and slippery boulders, so a good level of fitness (plus plenty of water and mosquito repellent) is required. When you reach the base of Te Rua Manga itself you’ll notice chains and ropes on the rock face – only attempt to scale the spire if you’re an experienced climber and have brought along the right gear. Besides, the spectacular views are pretty much the same anyway, so soak them in and enjoy! cookislands.travel
Never heard of Wallis and Futuna? You’re not alone. Comprising three main tropical islands and a smattering of tiny islets, this French territory lies right in the heart of the Polynesia/Melanesia region, situated between Fiji, Tuvalu, Tonga and Samoa. But while all of these South Pacific hot spots are well and truly on the travel radar, Wallis and Futuna has somehow managed to keep a low profile. And that means its postcard-perfect beaches, untouched reefs and verdant jungles are waiting to welcome you. Just don’t expect any souvenir shops or crowded streets of tourists; the pace is far slower here, so be sure to indulge in French pastries and fresh seafood, chat to the (very friendly) locals and enjoy basking in the beauty of this pristine, raw paradise. wallis-et-futuna.wf
Papua New Guinea Walindi Plantation Resort in Kimbe Bay is in Papua New Guinea’s forgotten West New Britain Province, and despite being around for nearly three decades, it remains one of the best-kept secrets right on Australia’s doorstep. This family-owned dive resort somehow manages to provide its guests with that perfectly balanced flop and drop holiday, mixed with an adventure retreat and a true local villager experience. Walindi’s famous liveaboard dive boat, the MV Febrina, is known for searching out some of the best diving visibility on the planet. And for those looking for something even cooler, the abandoned Talasea Airstrip is a scene straight out of an Indiana Jones film. Several World War II planes, including an old American B-52 bomber lie in stasis beneath a tangle of jungle and time. walindiresort.com
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